Things With Teeth
by It's-A-Passion
Summary: Stubborn, nosily inquisitive, journalist-to-be Ana prides herself on being able to sniff out a secret a mile away. So of course as soon as she spots dark, broodingly mysterious, sex-on-legs Derek Hale, her radar starts dinging like crazy. She quickly becomes the bane of his existence with her incessant determination to learn all his secrets. DerekOC.
1. Wolf Moon I

**Thank you for clicking on _Things With Teeth_! I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

_Wolf Moon Pt. I_

_(Prologue)_

* * *

I jumped over the back of the couch, my foot catching, and my would-be graceful landing turning into an unceremonious flopping onto my best friend in the whole world, Jay. He just rolled his eyes, shoving me off him so I went sprawling on the hardwood floors. Very kind hearted, I know.

He grinned down at me as I groaned, amused by my pain. I don't know why I suffer through this abuse.

I scrambled up, pushing my thick, long brown hair from my face and curling up on the couch. I wrapped a blanket around me like a burrito before looking at the screen expectantly. "Alright, movie time. Where's…" I glanced around on either side of me, before looking around the room, confused. "Where's the remote?"

"I thought you had it," Jay shrugged.

"No, you had it." I eyed him suspiciously, before trying to roll him off the couch so I could search around him. But considering he was bigger than me, he didn't even budge. And he was long past the days where he'd pretend like I could actually move him—now, he didn't even let me delude myself into thinking I had at least a little bit of muscle. "Don't you be hiding it from me."

He didn't even blink at the accusation. "Where did you have it last?"

"You _stole_ it, didn't you? You—,"

His hand snaked under my butt, before he withdrew his arm, the remote in hand. "You were sitting on it, idiot."

"Okay." I took the remote from him, turning to the TV and pressing play. The screen flickered to life as the opening credits to _Titanic_ played out. I grinned widely, "Yay!"

Jay groaned, his head flopping onto the back of the couch, his sandy blonde hair fanning out across the brown material. "I hate this movie. There's totally enough room on that raft for both of them—she doesn't deserve him."

"Hush, it's my house, I get to pick the movie."

"I'm the guest, shouldn't I get to pick the movie?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

I scoffed. "No."

"I don't want to watch this."

"I don't care. Now be quiet, you're ruining it."

"Ana, choose a different movie." He reached forward, trying to take the remote from me to change the movie himself.

"No." I moved the remote away from him, licking his hand as it got close. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Did you just _lick_ me? Jesus, Ana, how old are you?! Just give me the remote!"

We fell back, as I tried to hold it out of his reach, but he was taking advantage of his considerable bulk—maybe I should eat more vegetables—and I squirmed, trying to get away as we wrestled for the remote. "Never!"

Then Jay started tickling my sides and I let out a shriek of laughter, yelling about his underhanded tactics. My blanket tangled around me, holding me captive and preventing an escape. Oh no! Mayday! Mayday! My cocoon of warmth has become my coffin of doom! SOS! Send help!

We fell to the floor, landing with a thump and I wriggled and rolled, fending him off with one hand while holding the remote above my head. He lunged for it, and I pulled it down, clasping it to my chest before shoving it under my shirt. I grinned triumphantly at him. "Ha."

He smirked in the way that said he could one-up me. "It's cute that you think that'll stop me. I'll give you to the count of three to hand it over before I get it myself. _One_."

I shrieked again, rolling and twisting frantically to get away, "No!"

"_Two_."

"AAAARRGH!" I shouted, as his fingers tickled my sides again. "NOOOO!"

"_Three_."

Before he could grab the remote himself, my mother walked into the room, dressed in her nurse uniform, and sighing as she took in the scene before her. It didn't even come as a surprise to her to find us like that; Jay and I had been friends since we were in diapers, and our love was so platonic, our parents didn't even care if we rolled around on the floor together.

There was no chance we'd ever be together romantically. There was absolutely no sexual tension. No chemistry between us. And there never had been.

That's what made our friendship so perfect.

We both turned to look at her as she glanced at the TV where _Titanic_ was still playing, deducing exactly what was going on. "Ana, you can't make him watch a movie he doesn't like."

Yes, we have had this argument before. But I would never give up.

"Sure I can."

She rolled her eyes, pulling her brown hair—a slightly darker shade than mine—into a ponytail at the base of her neck before scrounging around in her bag, checking she had everything. "No, you can't. Now, give the remote to Jay and let him choose a movie."

"But he has awful taste in movies!" I gasped as Jay sat back on his heels, holding his hand out with a smirk. My mum just waited and I sighed, grumbling. "_Fine_."

I reached under my shirt before handing him the remote. This was going to suck for me.

"Whatever movie he picks, Ana, you have to watch it. No arguments." Then she turned to the stairs, shouting, "SCOTT!"

There was a pause before I could hear my brother's heavy footfalls. He paused at the top of the stairs, dressed in loose exercise pants and a white shirt. He'd grown recently, so he was taller, more filled out, but his shaggy brown hair falling about his face made him look younger still. He almost looked like an adorable puppy.

"I have the late shift again," mum said to both of us. "Make sure you go to bed soon; school starts tomorrow. Brush your teeth. No more ice cream, Ana."

"But—!"

"Jay's in charge while I'm gone." She pointed at Jay, and it made me forget about my ice cream argument.

"What?" I gasped, outraged, despite the number of times this happened. "But he doesn't even live here!"

Mum gave me a pointed look. "I know. And when Jay goes home, Scott's in charge."

"Wait, wait, wait," I said, holding up my hands and jumping off the couch. Scott sent me a smug look. "_No way_. I'm older."

"Right, what was I thinking?" Mum said, and I deliberately chose to overlook her sarcasm. "Ana, you're in charge."

I went to turn away, satisfied, when I caught her giving Scott a look that said _you know you're really in charge, right?_ And Scott nodded in a _trust me, I know_ kind of way. They were conspiring against me. I wrinkled my nose in indignation.

"Now, there's snacks in the cupboard, and a frozen pizza if you guys get really hungry." Mum walked to the front door, pausing for just a second to look at me seriously. "You know the rule."

"Wait," Jay said as mum closed the door behind her. He looked between Scott and me, a confused expression on his face. "What rule?"

I adopted a purposefully innocent expression. "I have no idea."

He ignored me, looking up at Scott, "What rule?"

"The rule that expressly forbids Ana from entering the kitchen."

Jay nodded like this made complete sense. There may have been a few incidents over the years that I'm not going to go into now, but let's just say they involved fire and scorch marks on the walls, a fire truck showing up and multiple trips to the ER, that culminated in this particular rule.

I still thought they were overreacting, though.

"It's such a ridiculous rule. I mean, how am I supposed to get to the fridge?" I looked up at Scott, willing him to be on my side. "You and mum know we're going steady, and I feel like we're at that critical point in our relationship where it's make or break. You wouldn't want to break us, would you?" He rolled his eyes at me and walked back to his room. "Wait, Scott! Right? Scott?"

He ignored me.

When I turned back around, Jay had already chosen a movie and was placing the disc onto the tray of the DVD player. I sighed, sitting back on the couch. "What movie did you choose?"

"_An American Werewolf in London_."

"No!" I said quickly. "No way. We are _not_ watching that."

"Yes, _we_ are. Your mum said so."

"But that's not fair!" I cried as he pressed play. I _did not_ do well with scary movies. My imagination was uncontrollable, and watching a scary movie sent it into overdrive.

"Too bad. Better get comfortable."

I made a face, bringing the blanket back up and covering most of face with it. My eyes peeked out over the top, and Jay draped his long body over the chair, completely calm. This was such a bad idea.

**Thanks so much for reading—any thoughts?**

**(Thank you DancerOfDanger for making the awesome cover for this story!)**


	2. Wolf Moon II

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

_Wolf Moon Pt. II_

_(Chapter One)_

* * *

My heart was beating erratically fast, eyes wide in abject horror. It was too dark in the room, and I curled up tighter into a ball on the couch. Every now and then, the room would be flooded with an eerily dim greyish light as the movie flicked from scene to scene.

I stuffed a handful of chips into my mouth, munching away when I frowned, confused—was this main guy really being set up with a romantic lead when his best friend was telling him to commit suicide? I opened my mouth to ask Jay, but the chips stopped me.

I spluttered, coughing up what I'd tried to breathe in, and Jay slammed a hand down on my back with enough force to bruise. "Chew and swallow, Ana, it's not that hard. Chew and swallow."

I somehow swallowed the chips without choking, clearing my airways, and I looked at Jay. "Man, that was a near-death experience."

"Please. You've experienced worse—remember that car that nearly hit you?"

"Oh yeah," I nodded. "The one that jumped the curb and went right for me."

Jay gave me a look. "You stepped out onto the road in front of it, and the driver had to swerve."

I contemplated this. "Yeah, from now on we're going to say it jumped the curb and went right for me."

We settled back to continue watching the movie, my questions forgotten. The main character was about to transform into a werewolf, screaming in pain, when sudden yelling came from outside to join it. I jumped, flinging the blanket from me as I looked around, breathing heavily and waiting for the newly transformed werewolf to jump through the window and murder us both. Jay paused the movie and we looked at each other.

It was silent, no more shouting. Jay frowned, "It sounded like Scott."

I was still breathing heavily, and I looked at him. "Maybe you should go check."

He shook his head like he was embarrassed for me, scoffing. "Are you afraid?"

"Yes." There was no point in lying. He just raised an eyebrow at me, and I grumbled obscenities at him under my breath as I stood up, "fine. I'll go check. Go ahead and keep watching the movie."

"Oh no," Jay grinned. "I'll just wait for you."

"I hate you." I glared at him I was walked to the side of the house, where the yelling had sounded from. As I got closer, I could hear Scott talking, alive and well, with no trace of fear because he was being ripped to pieces by the maniac murdering werewolf.

See what happens when I watch scary movies?

The last vestiges of uncertainty slipped away as I relaxed, about to turn around when I heard Stiles'—Scott's best friend—voice. "…look, I know it's late, but you've got to hear this."

Any chance of me walking back to the movie suddenly dropped to zero at his words. My insatiable curiosity spiked and I leaned closer to the window to hear what they were saying. Yes, I was eavesdropping on my brother. I'm a horrible sister. Don't judge me.

Stiles kept talking. "I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called, they're bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even state police."

This had to be big. Super big—_mega big_. Beacon Hills was a sleepy little town, what in the world could possibly make them need every officer they could get? I pressed my side against the wall, getting as close as possible so I didn't miss a single word. Apprehension crawled up my spine.

"For what?" Scott asked.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods."

Oh. My. God.

Oh.

My.

_God_.

Ohmigod.

"A dead body?" Scott sounded to be suffering from the same shock as me.

"No, a body of water. _Yes_, dumbass, a dead body."

This was the biggest thing to happen in Beacon Hills in years, and my mind went into overdrive. Was it murder? An accident? Who died? Who did it? What killed them? Was the body a he or she? Was he/she from Beacon Hills? I had to know.

When the town found out, it would go crazy. This was panic-inducing stuff.

Surprisingly, though, I felt no panic. Instead, my fingers twitched and I reached for the pocket notebook and small pen I always kept on me, pulling it out and flipping to a new page. I needed to write this down.

My great uncle Louis had been a journalist; he wrote biographical articles with limited credible sources and fancy, showy wording—near lawsuit inducing stuff—and had once said I had talent. Skip ahead about six years and here I was: editor for the news source of Beacon Hill's High in my senior year, author of pieces on the nutritional value of our cafeteria food and the questionable teaching tactics of particular staff (Yes, I _am_ talking about the Coach).

But _this_? This was a real story—this was something I could write. This was serious, news-worthy stuff; none of that 'the Janitor's been switching out the toilet paper in the bathrooms from three-ply to—_gasp_—one-ply' baby stuff I'd been writing for the past three years. No.

This story would get the front page of the _Beacon Hills High Newspaper_, and my name would be there with it—the ten-point sans serif font, small caps, byline saying who wrote it. ANA McCALL.

"Was it murder?" Scott's voice startled me from my thoughts, and I zoned back into their conversation.

"Nobody knows yet, just said it was a girl. Probably in her twenties." I jotted down every detail Stiles was saying, heart rate picking up again, though this time it was in excitement as adrenaline pumped through my body.

"Well hold on. If they found a body then what're they looking for?"

My hand paused, hovering over the page, as Scott's question hit home. There was more to this than the death.

"That's the best part. They only found _half_…we're going."

"Ana?" Jay asked behind me and I nearly screamed in fright, spinning around. "What—,"

I slapped a hand over his mouth, dragging him closer to the wall. He took in the familiar, fevered light in my abnormally large eyes and my wild gesticulating to the other side of the wall, and he shut up. "_Listen_."

"Okay, just let me get Ana," Scott was saying.

"What—no!" Stiles hissed quickly. "Not Ana! _Definitely not Ana_."

What? Who's this Ana they keep referring to—wait! Hold the phone. My name's Ana. _I'm_ Ana! They want to go investigating _without_ me? Investigating is my thing, it's my game! How could they do this to me? How could they betray me like this—my own brother.

"Why not?" My adorably quizzical brother asked.

"Scott, seriously? She is the _least_ sneaky person we know. We could literally take an elephant with us and we'd be less likely to be seen. An _elephant_."

Hey! I take offense to that! I'm exceedingly sneaky. I could sneak his socks off. Jay's chest vibrated with suppressed laughter and I elbowed him sharply to make him stop. It didn't work.

"Come on, you know she _lives_ for this stuff. We can't go without her—she'd _kill_ us if she found out."

Aw. He knows me so well.

Stiles' voice was sly. "_If_ she found out. She's not going to, unless you blab, so let's go!"

We could hear them jumping over the railing of the porch onto the grass with a thud and I slowly turned to Jay. He frowned, "What was all that about?"

"So, I was eavesdropping on Scott's conversation—,"

"I love how casually you talk about invasions of privacy," Jay mused, and I ignored him.

"—and you will never believe what I heard. Jay…_they found a body_."

He paused. "A body?"

"A body," I confirmed.

"…a _body_." He frowned, this information running through his mind. "In Beacon Hills?"

"In the woods," I nodded. I was practically bouncing on my feet as I shoved the little notebook at him. "Here, read my notes—I'll grab my jacket and we can go. You're driving."

He drove us everywhere—partly because I didn't have a car. I could use mum's car, but that would bring us to the other part—I wasn't allowed to get my license. Which was fine by me; I didn't mind being driven around for the rest of my life.

"Go?" He asked. "You're not serious—wait, this is you I'm talking to."

"Jay, c'mon, do you know what this means?" I said as I darted up the stairs to my room to search for my grey woolen coat. I poked my head back out the door to look down the stairs at him. "This is the biggest news this sleepy little town has seen in years. _Years_, Jay! We _need_ the scoop. This is front page news."

I darted back inside my room, searching under piles of clothes strategically placed around my room. To the untrained eye, my room would be considered chaotic—a complete mess. But I knew _exactly_ where everything was in there.

Except, apparently, my grey woolen jacket.

"Oh, duh!" I hit myself on the head in realization. That jacket was hanging on the coat rack by the door. I bounded back down the stairs where Jay was still standing, eyes running over the page of my notebook. "Let's go."

I grabbed his arm, pulling him to the front door. I grabbed my coat and thrust my arms into it, dropping my house keys into my pocket and shoving a beanie on my head. "Ana, I don't think this is a good idea."

"Jay. There is half a body somewhere in the woods. We have to be there to get the story; Beacon Hill's High Newspaper is depending on us."

"Wait, _half_ a body?" He asked incredulously.

I frowned, "I thought I told you that."

"You didn't," he snapped. "We're not going. Your mum would kill me. _I'd_ kill me."

"Then I'll go by myself."

"Ana," he said, gripping my shoulders and forcing me to look into his blue eyes. "People don't just cut _themselves_ in half. Someone did that to her, and you want me to take you out there?!"

"…you're the only one with a car…"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "You're not grasping what I'm saying here, Ana. There could be a psychotic murderer walking around those woods."

"Ohhhh," I nodded and his shoulders relaxed because he thought he'd convinced me it was a bad idea. Man, it's like he didn't know me _at all_. "I only want to talk to the sheriff, not go wandering around, looking for the bo…" I trailed off, eyes wide. "Scott."

He frowned. "No, I'm Jay. _Jay_."

"Scott and Stiles went looking for the body. I have to get them."

He sighed, dragging a hand down the front of his face and giving me a conflicted look. Then he threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "Alright, let's go. If your mum murders me though, I'm going to haunt your ass until you die."

"That would be so cool, I've always wanted a ghost friend. Like Casper."

I locked the door behind me, pulling my phone out of my pocket and dialing Scott's number. It kept ringing, even as we walked down the driveway to Jay's car. It kept ringing even as we got into the car, put on our seatbelts—safety first—and pulled away from my house.

So he was either ignoring my calls or he was dead. Fantastic. What was I supposed to tell mum?

The sky rumbled, getting ready to pour down on us. Jay turned the heater on, though the preserve wasn't far away, and I pointed to the familiar looking jeep parked on the side of the road as we got closer. "That's Stiles car."

Jay pulled up behind it, and we got out, looking around at the woods on either side of the road. We walked up the slight hill in the direction of the middle of the woods. That was about when I started to jump at everything. Every noise. Every shadow.

I glared at Jay after I was sure I'd seen a pair of eyes staring back at me. "You should know I hate you right now. If a werewolf rips my throat out, I blame you."

Jay rolled his eyes, "If a _werewolf_ rips your throat out, I'll be sure to take the blame."

"It could happen," I pouted.

"Ana. Werewolves aren't real."

"Shows what you know," I scoffed. "You'll see. They'll scratch on your bedroom window one night of the full moon, jaws clicking and snapping from the desire to sink their sharp canines into your flesh and rip you apart and as you lay dying in a pool of your own blood, you'll be like—oh snap, I should've listened to Ana."

"That…was disturbingly vivid."

I held my phone out in front of me, the screen lit up and giving me enough light that I could see the leaf-littered ground and avoid tripping over branches and roots and falling on my face. I shrugged, "I paint a picture with my words."

As we walked deeper and deeper, we heard voices get louder, obviously heading towards us. I was about to call out when Jay slapped a hand over my mouth and pulled me behind a tree. What was his problem?

I bit his hand to make him move it. "You taste disgusting."

"Ana?" Two voices asked at once.

I screamed and dived behind Jay. Very heroic, I know. "Eat him instead! He has more meat on his body!"

It took me a second to realize that werewolves can't talk. Jay sent me a _gee-thanks_ glare as I peeked out behind him to find the owners of the voices.

"Oh, Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski—you gave me a heart attack."

The Sheriff sighed dramatically, "What are you two doing out here?"

"Oh!" I searched in my pockets for my notebook, whipping it out. "Sheriff, can you comment on the body found by the joggers?"

The Sheriff glared at his son, "I wonder how you found out about that."

"I swear, I didn't tell her!" Stiles said, holding his hands up innocently.

"Yeah, he didn't," I said dismissively. _Technically_. "Anyway; comments?"

"You know I can't discuss an on-going investigation, Ana," the Sheriff sighed. The lines around his eyes made him look tired and stressed. "Get back to your car and go home."

"Aw, c'mon Sheriff, help me out here. You found half a body out here—female, in her twenties. Was it murder? Have you found the other half? Do you know how she was cut or with what? How long has her body been out here?"

"Look, all I can say is that we don't know who or what did that to her, and no, we haven't found the other half. No get back to your car, it's not safe." He shuffled us backwards, grabbing Stiles' shirt and dragging the boy along (who looked resigned to his fate).

"Can you give us the name of the joggers who found her?" Jay asked, and my eyes widened in pleasant surprise. That was a really good question.

I'd totally taught him everything I knew.

"Rachel Lewis and Natalie Loxton. Now _get_. I'll be calling your mother's in the morning to let them know of your little…_nocturnal wanderings_."

"Aw, sheriff, don't bring my mum into this! Anything but that!"

"This whole preserve is cordoned off until we find the other half," he said sternly, his voice all fatherly and concerned. "So I either tell your parents," his voice said this was the only option. "Or I throw you in jail and let you rot."

I groaned, thinking about my options. "Jail is tempting. But look, I know that we're trespassing and sort of but not interfering with a possible murder investigation right now, but _rotting_ seems a bit harsh—couldn't you just…let me mildew a little, then let me go free?"

My mum could be super frightening. She'd kill me if she found out. As in, _to death_.

We'd made it back to the road where Stiles' jeep and Jay's Ute were parked. "Get home, the lot of you. I'll wait until you drive away. Don't make me tell you again."

He folded his arms across his chest, all serious.

I was about to get in the car when I realized something. "Wait—where's Scott?"

"Err," Stiles said, giving me a pointed look. "He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep before school tomorrow. Lacrosse try-outs and what not. It was just me. Searching for the body. Alone."

Oh my god, Scott was still in the woods, by himself.

I sighed, getting in the car when the Sheriff seemed adamant about watching us drive away. When Jay started his car, the first few droplets of rain fell. It wasn't long before it was pouring down, the rain hitting the car roof loudly. I glanced at Jay, then back at the Sheriff, whose uniform was slowly becoming drenched. "We'll have to circle around to get Scott."

He nodded, turning around on the road and following behind Stiles' jeep. When we were out of sight of the Sheriff, Jay turned around and started to go back. As we got closer though, it seemed the Sheriff had anticipated our move, because he was still standing there, arms folded. Jay sighed, turning back around. We drove further this time, pulling off to the side of the road and waiting a few minutes, before going back.

We squinted at the road, rain making it hard to see anything more than a few feet in front of us. The Sheriff seemed to be gone this time and—

"FUCK!" Jay swerved to avoid the person in the middle of the road who'd appeared suddenly. When he came to a stop, I swung the door open and got out. Immediately, my hair and clothes were soaked as I squinted back at my idiotic brother.

"Scott!" I yelled to him, and he hurried towards the car. "What the hell are you doing standing in the middle of the road in a storm?! Seriously, did you stumble out of the woods and go—you know what, here looks like a good place to stand, right in the middle of the road, where it'd be super easy to get run over and give some poor, unsuspecting driver a heart attack and a life's worth of therapy?"

"No." He got into the back seat and I followed suit, dripping all over the interior. Lucky Jay's car was just about the furthest thing from expensive or shiny as possible. Scott leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes like he was in pain. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you. You know, you're lucky Stiles covered for you, because now the Sheriff is going to call mum and dob _me_ in. You should know that if she grounds me, I'm taking you down with me. It's not fair if I have to suffer when you're the one who—Scott? Are you listening to me?" I pouted over the back of my seat at him. He was clearly tuning me out.

How dare he.

"Yeah," he mumbled weakly.

I peered closely at him, "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

I turned around, frowning at the road. I didn't understand why he was lying to me.

Jay drove in silence, and for once I barely noticed. That was, until he blurted, "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," I replied, blinking. "You're always eating. Kind of like a dog. One of those skinny ones that never look like they've been fed properly. You know which ones I mean? They're super fast, too. Oh! I know. You're a greyhound.

"I'm not a greyhound," Jay disagreed.

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not."

"You are."

Jay rolled his eyes, looking at Scott through the rearview mirror, "She looks more like a dog than me, right?"

Scott glanced between the two of us as we waited for his answer expectantly. "Er…she would kind of make a cute puppy."

"Kind of? Please. I'd make an _adorable_ puppy."

"Wow, no one can say _you_ have self-esteem issues," Jay grumbled. Then he was pulling into the driveway to our house. "I think I'll just go home. See you tomorrow morning, bright and early."

I groaned at his reminder. "Thanks. Don't hit anyone on your way home. But if you do, I'll help you bury the body."

He rolled his eyes, "I'll keep that in mind."

We quickly darted for the front porch to get out of the rain, and I unlocked the door, letting us in. I went straight for the shower, the warm water heating my chilled skin until I could feel the warmth in my bones. I trudged across to my room, flopping down on my bed. My clock read 11:07, so I switched off my light and curled up in bed.

I should've fallen asleep straight away; I felt tired and kind of exhausted. But of course, right as I began to drift, I remembered the movie and I somehow convinced myself that there was a werewolf in my room. Every corner of my room seemed to have a shadow that moved. Every distant wail of tree branches rubbing together sounded like a werewolf howl.

Mustering all my courage, I darted out of bed and out of my room, across the hallway of the darkened house. I paused at Scott's door, knocking softly. "Scott?"

There was an irritated groan in response which I took as an invitation, letting myself into his room. He muttered something into his pillow before saying, "You're lucky you're too small to beat up."

"Aw Scotty, why'd you want to hurt your big sister?"

I lifted the blankets on his bed and quickly slipped under, curling into a ball, my back pressed to his warm side. His room had menacing shadows as well, but they seemed less scary with his body beside me. He rarely let me crawl into his bed anymore; we used to share one when we were younger, but then he got older and demanded I stop it.

It was for the best though; he hogs the sheets.

Slowly, slowly, I drifted to sleep.

**Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought!**

**Guest reviews—**

**Hotaru Himura: **It seems you've disabled PMing, so I'll just reply to your review here! Thank you so much for being my first reviewer for this story! I was super nervous about posting this story, because Ana is so different of a character to what I usually write, so I'm SO happy that you liked the first chapter! I know, I'm really excited for Ana to meet Derek too (she is going to drive him crazy, gosh, it's going to be SO fun to write!) and that should happen about chapter 3 or 4. Hopefully you'll want to keep reading by that stage! Thanks so much for taking the time to review this for me!

**Caitlyn: **Aw, thank you so much! It makes me want to do a little happy dance knowing that you liked the first chapter and thought it was cute and adorable, haha! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter just as much, with Ana's stubborn weirdness! :D Thank you so much for reviewing! Gah, it means so much to me! :D


End file.
